


After the Battle

by majesticmcold



Series: Fili Friday Prompts [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticmcold/pseuds/majesticmcold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part one of a three part King Fili AU. Set after the Battle of the Five Armies, when Fili is confronted with the task of rebuilding Erebor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Battle

_Fire. Smoke. Blood._

_The taste of metal was in his mouth. All around him, bodies were falling. They hit the ground with a heavy finality; their life snuffed out with one stroke of a sword or twang of a bow. Never again would they raise a mug of ale, laugh at a joke, touch a loved one._

_Death. Destruction. Chaos._

_That was what ruled there on the plains before Erebor. Dust swirled in the air as though it were a disease, choking him, obscuring his eyesight. Nothing but a single thought pounded against his mind, pounding like the hammer of Durin himself. It consumed him, controlling him._

_Not Kíli._

_The thought set him on fire, fuelling him even as he felt his legs were going to give way beneath him, or as though his arm could not handle the weight of his sword._

_Not Thorin._

_And yet, it_ was _Thorin – Thorin, overwhelmed by an ocean of orc, face disfigured in a battle snarl as he continued to slash at those who sought his head. And it_ was  _Kíli, who threw himself towards Thorin, intent on defending his uncle with everything that it took – even if it took his life._

_He stepped forward – and red clouded his vision. It swirled to an inky black, and then he found himself falling into the void. Yet one thing remained._

_Not Kíli. Not Thorin. Not Kíli –_

 

Fíli was not aware he was yelling until he opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the searing pain in his arm – the second being the scratchy material keeping his arm in a sling.

‘Are you alright, laddie?’

The heavy voice came from his right. Fíli whipped his head around, braids hitting the side of his face.

‘Dw-Dwalin?’

Fíli eventually focused his eyes on the warrior dwarf’s face. The rest of his environment materialised itself: a bare room, made out of a polished dark stone. The bed underneath him was simple, but comfortable.

Fíli started to sit up, but a hand on his left shoulder pushed him back down.

‘Careful there.’

‘Balin …’ Fíli blinked, attempting to find the words that expressed his urgency. ‘Balin, I –’

‘You need your rest, lad.’

Balin’s face was grimy, his normally alive beard hanging limp.

‘No.’ Fíli shook his head. ‘No, I need … I need my brother.’  _Not Kíli._ ‘Balin, where is Kíli?’

‘Laddie –’

‘ _Answer me, Dwalin!’_ Fíli roared.

The unexpected sound made the usually stoic dwarf flinch. He exchanged a look with his brother, a look that Fíli did not appreciate.

‘ _Where is Kíli?_ ’

‘Right here, you blockhead.’

Fíli’s heart settled back into a steady rhythm. Kíli stood in the doorway, a staff under his arm to steady him. He was smiling at Fíli, yet his smile did not seem to meet his eyes. Not like it usually did.

‘Kíli, what’s wrong?’

Kíli looked towards Balin, his eyes wide and helpless. ‘I –’

Fíli turned away, falling back on the pillow.  _No._

 

‘Fíli, Kíli, I’m so sorry.’

Fíli didn’t reply. What could he say? It wasn’t the hobbit’s fault that his uncle lay dead in front of him.

Kíli muttered a few words to comfort Bilbo, but Fíli didn’t hear.

The older dwarf moved forwards. He paused for a moment, then dropped to his knees. His hands reached up, grabbing onto the braids from his moustache, and he pulled, letting out a scream.

 

‘You’re king now.’

‘I don’t want to think about that.’

‘I think you have to –’

‘Kíli, Thorin is dead!’

‘I know.’ Kíli put a hand on Fíli’s shoulder, face sombre. ‘We all mourn. But this is a tricky time. Dain is here -’

‘Oh, so now he comes.’ Fíli scoffed bitterly.

‘Fee …’

Fíli stood up. His arm flared up, but he took no notice. ‘Where was he when we asked? Only now that we have retaken the Mountain has he shown any interest at all in us -’

‘He came when we needed him most,’ Kíli replied gently. ‘You are the heir, Fíli. You are King under the Mountain. And people want to see their King.’

The two brothers locked eyes for a moment. Then Fíli’s face twisted, and he rushed towards Kíli.

‘I’m not ready,’ Fíli mumbled into Kíli’s shoulder. ‘This is all too fast.’

‘I’ll be here, brother.’

 

The burial was a quiet, but sorrowful affair. Everyone was present, from the loyal members of the Company and beyond, to Bard and his men, to even the Elvenking.

Fíli kept his eyes on Thorin the whole time. He could think of nothing except how he was ever going to live up to Thorin’s legacy. How was he to rebuild Erebor?

_When you are king, you will understand._ But he didn’t. He didn’t understand. He had no idea. Uncertainties circled around him like ravens, pecking at his flesh and pulling at his hair.

He didn’t realise Bard was standing in front of him until Kíli nudged him.

Fíli looked up. The man was looking uncertain, holding a bright jewel that shone from between his fingers.

The King’s Jewel. The Arkenstone. It took a moment for Fíli to realise that Bard was offering it to him.

‘I don’t want it.’

‘Fíli?’ Kíli asked quietly.

Fíli shook his head. ‘Bury it with Thorin. I want no part of it.’

He could sense everyone giving each other uncertain looks, but he knew he had made the right decision.

As Thranduil moved forward, Orcrist in hand, to pay homage to the fallen king, Fíli looked around. A small smile touched his lips when he realised that, yes, he did have to rebuild Erebor, but he wasn’t going to do it alone.

 

‘It survived Smaug. Odd.’

Kíli ran a hand over the stone, a wondrous look shining on his face. Then he stepped back.

‘Well, there you go.’

Fíli hesitantly sat himself down on the throne. As Kíli beamed at him, Fíli couldn’t help but think,  _it should have been Thorin._

_‘_ King under the Mountain.’

The deep, commanding voice was the only thing that had announced the elves’ arrival. The lithe, graceful beings were historically the dwarves’ rivals, yet to Fíli, that seemed like nothing more than a ridiculous memory. As he looked upon them standing before him, he bore them no ill will.

Fíli stood back up. ‘King Thranduil.’ The dwarf bowed, and Thranduil tilted his head to the side, face blank.

‘I thank you, King Thranduil, from the bottom of my heart, for all you have done for us. If it were not for your aid, I, nor my brother, would not be standing here now.’

From anyone else, that could have been perceived as a back-handed compliment. But Thranduil gazed upon Fíli, and knew he was true.

‘Anything that you desire, is yours.’

Thranduil paused for a moment, before speaking slowly. ‘I do have one request …’

Eerily owl-like, Thranduil’s head turned to face his son, standing statue-like next to him. Fíli understood.

‘Kíli, go with Legolas.’

Kíli nodded and led Legolas away. From the stiff way Legolas moved and the suspicion on the young elven prince’s face, Fíli knew that it may take a while for most elves to repair the barrier between their two races.

But not for some.

‘Tauriel.’

The Silvan elf’s back was straight and her eyes staring firmly ahead, as though she was resisting the urge to look behind her. She too bore the marks of battle, yet she was as fair and graceful as any goddess.

‘I didn’t get a chance, before the fighting started,’ Fíli began, ‘so I will use it now. You saved my brother’s life, and for that I will forever be in your debt. Erebor will always be welcome to you – and I’m sure Kíli would be more than happy to see you every now and again,’ Fíli added, a cheeky glint in his eye.

Tauriel smiled. ‘Thank you, but my place is with my people. There is much to be done – we may have won the battle, but the darkness is ever growing. And it will not stop.’

Fíli nodded. ‘I understand. But if you should ever want to visit -’

‘Then I know I am welcome.’

Fíli chanced a look at the Elvenking. A glimmer of disapproval was faint - but there - however he seemed to be pleased by his Captain’s response.

 

‘We have much to do, Kee.’

Gold and silver and jewels were everywhere, rubble and broken pillars mingling amongst them. But, as Fíli and Kíli watched on top of the platform, already dwarves were filing in, ready to lend a hand in restoring one of the greatest kingdoms Middle-Earth has ever known.

‘Much,’ Kíli agreed. He opened his mouth to say more, but fell silent.

Fíli chuckled. ‘Out with it.’

‘Did … Tauriel say anything to you before she left?’ Kíli was the picture of innocence. ‘About … me, maybe?’

Fíli shook his head, smiling. ‘Come on, Kee.’


End file.
